


Offspring

by PeverellSlytherin



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: GN!Baddie!Reader, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-13 10:20:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28901781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeverellSlytherin/pseuds/PeverellSlytherin
Summary: The BAU meets the offspring of an old unsub.[Gender Neutral Reader Self Insert]
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	1. Chapter 1

Of course it had to be this way. Of course this was how it would end. Exactly the same as the one before you. With him.

\- one year ago-

You were tired. You had all the semantics of the places you aimed to hit. If there was any turning back, you had long surpassed it. 

You felt numb, cold inside. The only time you felt alive was that moment between adrenaline and pure terror. It's why you were so good at parkour, so good at diving, so good at not dying. 

It was a bit of a weird twist, to jump off a building and ensure you live even though you know, given the chance, you would welcome death. But death was not your goal at present, not for yourself anyhow.

You were a planner, a strategist. And you were a legacy. A ghost. Not a single police force or bureau knew of Y/N Foyet. And damn if you weren't better, faster, stronger that the one before you.

\- now -

"Foyet!" You cough, trying to pull air into your lungs to make the jump. Your ribs are bruised where you were grabbed and your leg is bleeding from the stab would made by your own knife, making it difficult to put your body into the correct position.

You jump from the higher roof to the lower. You know he is going to follow. You've never felt so alive.

\- eight months ago -

It didnt take long for the FBI to be called in. You were extremely prolific after all. Fourty two prisons, 12 federal, in four months. Almost no survivors. Inmates, guards, all with their files on their laps. Necks twisted and smiles carved into their faces. The guilty.

The ones left behind taped to the walls, ropes creating an intricate web pointing to their files and each other. The innocent. The only ones who survived.

Not a single one knew what happened. They were walking, talking and then nothing. Woke up taped to a wall. Woke up to lawyers wanting to review their files. Woke up to hope, to freedom. 

You had your code. Only the guilty. This is what you were. What fueled you. The pure adrenaline of life and death and now... the heart stopping terror of the BAU. Could you win? Would they catch you? Would you let them?

\- now -

You're so close. So close you can feel it, see it. All you needed to do was clear the town and you'd be golden. The blood loss isn't helping, but you have never been so determined as you are now. 

Only you know of the cavern underneath the rock face after all. Only you know which current to take. Only you know the way to the exit.

\- six months ago -

The BAU were close to losing it. They were on their third profile already. It was still incorrect. The Dredd, as you were named by some dumbass local paper, was still at large and as prolific as ever. 

You have knocked 200 state prisons and all 110 federal prisons. Other than the federal prisons, your smaller haunts were a drop in the bucket compared to your goal. 

They didn't think you could devolve any farther, but you weren't devolving, not yet. They didnt understand. Numbers were just that, numbers. Your endgame wasn't prison reform, although that was a plus. 

Your endgame was one very special agent.

\- now -

You grunt as you get tackled down by Agent Morgan. He was a strong, angry type and damn if that didn't hurt like a bitch. 

He might be strong though, but he was no hand to hand fighter. Putting him out was easy. The only problem is, that gave everyone else time to catch up and you'd need to be standing to do the base jump. 

\- four months ago - 

Your little prison count turned out at 800. Precisely. Federal, all 110, still empty. You knew you'd never be able to hit all 1800 state prisons, but damn if you didn't make your mark. 

You were getting bored though. The kills weren't fun anymore. The ritual wasnt fun anymore. There was no more adrenaline. You knew everything off by heart already. How long until maximum effect of your gas, how long until first backup response, how long until it hit the news. 

You never liked the news. Low life simps. It was finally time. Time to initiate endgame.

\- now - 

You finally made it to the edge, crawling from where you were tackled. The team had caught up in time to watch you stand up. Hotch with his gun aimed to you, anger burning in those intense eyes of his. Yeah, you could see why your father ended up fixated on Hotch.

\- two months ago, after targeting the FBI holding cells, turning the victims' ribs into wings and forcing them to pray into their deaths -

The phone rang and a disgruntled, exhausted agent picked up: "Hello Agent Hotchner, let's make a deal..."


	2. Gambit Declined

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happened after. After the phone call and after that day.

\- two months ago -

"Hello, Agent Hotchner, let's make a deal..." Hotch's blood ran cold. It couldn't be... no, no, it couldn't. He had felt George Foyet crack under his own fists. Saw his body get buried. There was no more George Foyet and yet. Yet, here were the words he now dreaded the most. Foyet's line. 

"Who is this?" You scoffed, knew it would unsettle him. Knew it had worked. "Don't play coy, Agent, it doesn't suit you."

\- now -

You stand, millimeters from the edge of the rock face, watching the hatred in the eyes of one Agent Hotchner. It takes everything in you to keep upright, to not give in. You could have easily played the same game your father did. Be caught, escape, threaten. Unfortunately, that didnt much interest you.

The look of confused desperation mixed with hope in his eyes when you "fell" backwards off the cliff was enough to keep you going though. 

\- two months ago -

"I don't make deals with criminals, I catch guys like you." He was reusing dialogue like it was groundhog day, but he didn't know what else to do. He was at a disadvantage and you both knew it. 

"Careful, I might just want that." One thing you aren't is a narcissist. A little shit? That you might be.

Hotch didn't know what to think. After the opener, so exactly like Foyet, he expected his refusal to end in anger like it did last time. He didn't expect to be half flirted with. As he sat listening to a dial tone though, he knew it was someone who was very closely linked with Foyet, but Foyet didn't keep friends.

He put down and picked up the receiver again, "Garcia, find me all known contacts of George Foyet as well as any missed next of kin." 

\- now -

It is always a shock the first time you hit the water, your body never ready for the exact cold these waters are. The easy part is letting the currents push you towards the cave opening you know is there, silently waiting for its friend to return.

It only takes a few minutes until you break the surface of the water. You're not too worried about the blood seeping through your clothes now. You have long since kitted out your underground hideaway. Knowing human anatomy and stitching is a plus too.

\- a month ago -

You've been phoning and flirting with Hotch more than you've been killing now. Every week you chose a precinct, seemingly randomly, to kill and display their guilty. At that point, the best parts were seeing if the unit could even closely predict where you'd strike next. And then hacking Hotch's systems or the unit's systems depending on which one Garcia was protecting. She couldn't be everywhere at once after all. 

It was fun having them spiral, trying to figure it out how you "randomly" chose. Spencer with his analytical mind, you knew he'd latch on eventually. You did choose a very dear chess opening to you, so you hoped he would. 

\- now - 

You slowly moved through the maze of caverns, your wound stitched up and pain killers in your system. It would take about a full day in your condition to make it out. 

By that time, the police force should be thinned out at least. You were certain they'd think your body was just washed into a different harbour or even the ocean proper.

Endgame is really shaping up to be lively.

\- three weeks ago -

"Y/n Foyet." 

"So, you finally found my name. Does it help you any?"

"We know how you look too. We've already put bolo's out for you. You won't escape."

"What makes you think I want to? Perhaps I'd like nothing more to see those muscles of yours in action, agent."

"You can try to shock me all you like, it wont stop the fact that we're closing in on you."

"Who says I'm trying to shock you? My father was a skin man. Scars and blood. Me, I like the finer details." 

\- now -

You creep along the edge of the outer woods, having come out the opposite side where you had jumped off. The caverns run underneath the earth you bled on not too long ago.

Hitching a ride is easier than it should be. You convince the driver to drop you off close to your apartment and find your way inside. You'll be out of action for a few days at least. 

\- a week ago -

You decided to see how far you can push your luck. You broke into Hotch's apartment while he was sleeping and stole his badge, his handcuffs and his second gun. If you stole a bagel while you were at it, well he can sue you, it was tasty.

Apparently that set the whole team off though. It amuses you how angry a group can get when one of them is proven to be vulnerable. 

\- a day ago -

They finally figured it out. The pattern wasn't random, of course when is it ever. It was The King's Gambit. How could it not be? 

It was one of the most poetic openings one can choose especially in the context of a Foyet and their deals. 

\- after - 

It has been 2 weeks since the base jump and you're bored. Very very bored. Your stitches are out, the area is pretty nicely healing and theres only so much push ups one can do.

You walk out and catch a cab, whistling and end up in front of no. 121 Langham. You knock on the door and smirk as he opens it, "Hello agent."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ancient King's Gambit is an opening beloved by Romantics. The possibilities this opening presents have intrigued the greatest minds for years. It allows the opposing player to accept or decline the Gambit.

**Author's Note:**

> This work is a duplicate that I originally posted online on Tumblr.com


End file.
